Some people wish their entire lives for something so profound as the world to end to live their dreams, not knowing the world is ending soon, and the opportunities they lose will never come back.

People glorify Kafka, especially passionate readers and writers, when in fact his was a terrible, miserable life.

He didn’t have to bear his father’s oppression. He could have expressed his feelings toward a woman. Yet it didn’t occur to him the world was ending soon.

There was nothing brave about Kafka. A good writer? Who knows, his lucubration was translated into a language you and I understand. Few must know what was lost in translation.

So, he wrote. Clap Clap. Doesn’t change he lived a life full of misery, and there’s no reason he should be glorified the way he his.